Frenemies
by Tabby Kitten
Summary: They weren't friends, ever, in life. So why did Draco feel compelled to go to his funeral?


Draco Malfoy stood in the back, and for once no one paid him any attention. The sun was oppressively bright, and on a different day its light might have made you abandon your work and go out by the lake, but not today. Today Draco's smooth black dress shoes scrambled for a firm hold in the dirt at the base of an old gnarled oak tree. He wrapped his arms around his body, for the day wasn't as warm as the bright sun let on. He leaned back against the trunk and watched the ceremony that was Fred Weasley's funeral.

A Malfoy wasn't supposed to be at a Weasley's funeral. That was why Draco stood half-hidden under a tree, several feet behind the last row of chairs that stood facing the shimmering lake. Those chairs were filled with Professors, students, and many wizards who had been friends with the Weasleys, people who Draco had been told were lowering themselves by befriending the Weasleys. They weren't scum, though. These were familiar wizard stock, good people who lived and died honestly. If the pureblood elitists were the head of wizarding Britain, then surely these people were its heart and soul. Further up were the Weasleys themselves, likely with Harry and Hermione in tow. Draco didn't want any of them to see him there.

He wasn't sure why exactly he had dragged himself out to the funeral of an old classmate; he just felt that he should. He felt like it was his duty, somehow, to be at Fred Weasley's funeral. He'd always hated the Weasley twins, but still. A lot of people had been killed. There was no way to fix that. What could you do, other than stand around at the funerals? This was the aftermath of the war, not raw blood and destruction but trauma and grief and funerals for students. For kids. A war had just ended and now they were holding funerals on the same ground where these students had once relaxed in the sun. Draco shuddered and tried not to think about that, especially not the hand he'd had in it.

As the formal ceremony ended, people crowded forward to pay their respects and leave final tokens of appreciation around the coffin. There were notes, bright flowers tied up in neon ribbons, and favorite Wesley's Wizard Wheezes products. Someone had charmed a bunch of flowers to sing popular songs with the lyrics replaced with dirty words. No amount of token gifts could lighten the Weasleys' grief or bring Fred back, but the mound around his coffin was certainly quite impressive. A final tribute to Hogwarts' favorite pranksters.

Draco slid his hand into his pocket and closed it around a battered cardboard box. He remembered how he'd taken a drought of polyjuice potion last summer and slipped out to buy it under the guise of a muggle teenager. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was the last place in Diagon Alley that still had the bright colors and bold window displays that Draco remembered in his childhood. He slid into the shop with the intent of buying something to brighten up the dark and slid back out with a box of Nosebleed Nougat, the first thing he saw. When took stock of what he'd purchased, he figured he could use it to get out of a death eater meeting.

The meeting he wanted to get out of was the one when the Dark Lord had planned to kill Harry Potter when he moved out of his aunt and uncle's house. Was Draco friends with Potter? No. Was Potter annoying and infuriating? Absolutely. But did he want to see Potter die? Of course not. He'd known Potter since they were both eleven, long enough to know that Potter had an annoying habit of tapping his foot during exams and that he ate toast with peanut butter and bananas almost every morning. He'd hated Potter for years, but had to admit deep down that he was a good kid. So he planned to take a Nosebleed Nougat and run out during the meeting. He ended up chickening out, mostly because he feared that the others would ask intrusive questions if he suddenly started bleeding during a meeting. He stayed in the meeting, hating every minute of it.

They did come in handy after the battle at Malfoy Manor, in which Potter and his friends escaped with Dobby the house elf. Draco had been hit with glass from the falling chandelier and had quickly eaten the orange end of a nougat. The effect was immediate: blood began streaming down his face, making him look far worse than he actually was and saving him from the Dark Lord's wrath while his mother was fussing over him. The box had ridden in his pocket in the month since, in case he needed to make a quick escape. Now its corners were broken down and the label was starting to peel off.

He crept forward slowly on the tails of the crowd, hoping no one would notice. Some of the Weasleys had dissipated at this point, but Mrs. Weasley was collapsed on the low platform sobbing in anguish, and Mr. Weasley was holding on to her. Neither of them were alert enough to notice him. Draco took out the box of Nosebleed Nougat and set it down with the other boxes. On a second thought, he waved his wand and conjured a scrap of parchment with a few words written on it: emThanks for saving me/em. He straightened up, the back of his neck prickling. He turned and saw Percy Weasley watching him. The lanky Weasley merely raised an eyebrow and turned away. Draco wondered if he should say something, but held back. Let Percy think what he wanted.

He wandered up the aisle between the seats and back out the way he'd come. He wasn't sure if he wanted to head home or go somewhere else in the stretches of land beyond the school grounds. But one thing was for sure—he wasn't going to go back where he came from.

**A/N **

**House: Hufflepuff **

**Year: 5 **

**Standard **

**Words: 1,016**

**Subject: Transfiguration**

**Prompt: [event] Funeral of a frenemy **


End file.
